The Smith & The Weaver
by Katherine-Magnolia
Summary: Upon returning to Winding Circle after yet more long, seperate journeys, things are much different. Especially between two of the travelers. Daja must come to grip with what she actually feels, or risk losing it without a fight. Warning: Slash DL
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters, these places, or this world. They would belong to Tamora Pierce and her wonderful imagination. ((Which I can only wish I owned :P))

((Reviews are very, very welcome, even if it's nothing but criticsm.))

Daja brushed a sweat-soaked braid off of her face, groaning as her muscles screamed in protest at the slight motion. Her mentor grinned at her as he noticed the flicker of pain across her face.

"Someone took it easy on the road," Dedicate Frostpine said, his voice a dull roar to get over the sound of the bellows his newest apprentice was using. "Didn't get much time to swing a hammer, did you, Daja?" He clapped her on the shoulder, causing the muscular young woman to groan again. If it wasn't for how much she respected Frostpine, then she would have gone after him with the hammer she had just dropped. Or, as she admitted to herself as she pushed away from the wall, if she believed that she would be able to pick the hammer back up.

"I was busy, Frostpine," she muttered, her dark eyes sullen. The Trader had had no idea whatsoever that she was so out of practice. It wasn't right that a smith-mage should be made to travel away from her forge. "With training those twins I came across until suitable teachers were found. And then with..." she trailed off, a very faint blush tinging her dark cheeks. "Lessons with Lark." She quickly adverted her gaze, hand shooting out to grasp the smooth wooden staff that marked her as a proper Trader instead of the outcast she had once been. Leaning on it she started towards the front of the forge. "I have to get back to Discipline, Lark expects me to help with supper since none of the others will be returning for several days." She felt the slightest tinge of jealously, quickly suppressed, shoot through her as she thought of Rosethorn returning. Lark was so excited about that, it was obvious that she missed the woman terribly. _And why? Rosethorn is just a- no... she's wonderful._ She sighed, wishing that she could wish ill on the Dedicate.

A bushy gray eyebrow shot up as Frostpine took in the blush of his former student. Daja caught the look on his face and her blush only deepend. "Well," he rumbled, giving his broad shoulders a shrug. "Enjoy the next few days. Rest up and don't come down here for any other reason than to say hello. Your muscles need to rest or you won't be able to work for even longer. Tell Lark that I say hello and welcome back to Winding Circle."

At Frostpine's words Daja's dark eyes came alight and, despite the protests of her body, she hugged the larger man. "Thank you, Frostpine! I'll be sure to make it up for you when I come back!" With another grin she turned and hurried away as quickly as she could. The next few days would see her alone with Lark, the last few days she would be able to claim with the woman before Rosethorn and the others returned. Yes, she was eager to see them all, but she wasn't ready to share Lark yet... Not after the months they had spent traveling while Frostpine had decided to remain at Winding Circle. The fingers that were not curled around the Trader staff drifted up to her lips, a different sort of smile forming as she remembered the kiss that had been left there that morning before she left, along with the promise that had been whispered.

It seemed like it took an eternity before the small, neat cottage that would always be home to Daja came into view. Her heart sped up, and her feet kept up with the tempo. The moment that she opened the small gate that stood as a little sentry to guard the cottage the front door swung open to reveal a woman in her middle years with a gentle smile on her face. Daja's breath caught, she _always_ forgot how beautiful Lark was. As she moved forward, her Trader staff falling to the ground when her hands reached out to take Lark's, she wondered why it had taken her so long to see it in the first place. _And I understand why Rosethorn is so protective of her..._ Then Lark's lips, warm and even more gentle than her smile, were on Daja's and her thoughts stopped.

((So... this is the first time I've written anything like this in years. It's also just the beginning. There are seven main chapters in the works, along with an epilogue. So yeah, more on the way.))


	2. Remembering The Road

**Remembering The Road**

"What are you thinking of?" Lark asked, her slender fingers running through Daja's tangled locks. That was her favorite question, and Daja could not count the number of times that it had been asked in the past five months. "And do not pretend to be sleeping this time, I saw you close your eyes." It was all the Trader could do to not giggle as the Dedicate gave her a light shove. "Please answer me, Daja."

Sighing, Daja turned over on her side to face the Dedicate. "That in three days we won't be the only ones here anymore. Everyone else will be coming back then... _everyone_." There was no doubt about why a note of bitterness had crept into her voice. Everyone included Rosethorn, the last person in Emelan that Daja wanted to return. Yes, she thought of the woman as a sort of aunt and she respected her greatly, but she knew what was going to happen when the plant mage returned. She would take Lark back. Daja's arms slid around Lark of their own accord as she thought of the two Dedicates. It had been no real secret that Lark and Rosethorn were sweethearts, especially among the young mages who they had taken in. "I just wish that we didn't have to come back, that's all." She closed her eyes at the look in Lark's, not wanting to think about it. She never asked what Lark was thinking for fear of what that would be. Lark would go back to Rosethron, she loved Rosethorn, and that was all there was to it.

"Daja... we need to talk, about what's going to happen when-"

To her chagrin, Daja felt a lump building in her throat as she gave her head a violent shake. "No, no I do not think that we need to," she said, pulling away from Lark. She stood up, dressing with her back turned to the Dedicate. "Rosethorn is going to come back. You are going to be with her because you love her and always have. I'm not a silly child, Lark, I know how things are between the two of you." Tears stung her eyes when she turned to look at the wide-eyed thread mage. The look on Lark's golden-brown face was one she had never seen before, and that just made the tears want to fall even more. _Stop it!_ she scolded herself, backing towards the door. _Lark is Rosethorn's, I've always known that._ But there was still that part that seemed to insist that maybe, just maybe, Lark could be - "I'm sorry," Daja whispered, adverting her eyes as she turned and walked out the door. She heard Lark call her name, but she did not turn back, all but fleeing to the second floor, then up the ladder that led to the roof.

She was crying as she collapsed on the familiar thatched roof, weeping as she had not done in years. "Traders do not cry over things such as this," she told the straw beneath her. "Traders do not _do_ things such as I have done!" The Trader family that had taken her in would be ashamed if they learned of it... Polyam would be most displeased. Not because Lark was a woman, Daja could not imagine people still being that close-minded, but because Daja had known that Lark was going to end up back with Rosethorn the moment that they saw each other again. She should not have allowed her emotions and desire get the better of her on that journey. Oh but it had been so wonderful, and she had wanted it so much... The young woman squeezed her dark eyes shut as her memory carried her back to that life-changing night...

**Four Months Previous**  
They had been traveling for two solid months, with no apparent destination in mind and no idea of when they would return to Discipline Cottage, home. Not that Sotat was unpleasant to travel through, in fact it was rather nice during the end of spring, but a very vague feeling of homesickness had begun to overtake the two travelers. One longed for the company of the three who had become as siblings to her over the past few years of her life, along with the man who had taught her all she knew of being a smith and smith-mage. She was even beginning to miss the sharp-tongued Dedicate whom she had sworn up and down, after first meeting her, that she would never miss.

The other, older woman, longed for the company of that sharp-tongued Dedicate. "You're melancholy, Lark," the young woman remarked as she stirred up their small campfire. "Do you truly miss Discipline and Rosethorn that much? Going all the way to Janaal _was_ your idea after all."

Lark, her mouth curving up in a smile even though her dark eyes were dull, nodded her head. "Yes, Daja, it was my idea, but it does not mean that I will not miss Rosethorn." She sighed, dropping the small lap-sized weaving loom into her lap as though she no longer cared to touch it. Daja frowned, reaching forward to take one of Lark's golden-brown hands into her own darker one. Lark was not melancholy, it was not in the thread-mage's nature to be such. Lark's dark eyes were surprised as they met Daja's, though there was something there that the Trader would have sworn was the glimmer of a twinkle.

"It will be alright," Daja promised, smiling despite the shock of of electricity that had rushed through her when she took Lark's hand in her own. A faint blush tinged her cheeks at the smile Lark turned her way. She began to release Lark's hand, thinking that the Dedicate would be alright now, but found that Lark was not letting go. _Alright..._ Daja thought, a little confused as to why Lark was not releasing her hand. She did not truly mind, even if the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach was a little disconcerting. "Briar and Sandry will take good care of your Rosethorn." A trace of bitterness accompinied the name of Rosethorn, surprising Daja to no end. _Oti log this..._

"I do miss Rosie - Rosethorn, that is," Lark admitted, her slender fingers tracing a path over the back of Daja's hand as she looked into the dancing flames. "But we've been apart for much longer than this and I was just fine. When all of you went away that first time, so that you young mages could learn some sort of what it was like to live on your own, without the protection of Discipline."

Tingles were running from Daja's hand throughout her entire body, like the ripples that a stone caused when it was tossed into a pool of water. Why was Lark doing this? Yes, she was the sort to hug or hold one when they needed it most, but that was only when it was needed. Daja was not even close to being upset enough for physical contact to be warranted. But, unlike if Rosethorn or even one of her adopted siblings had been touching her, Daja found to her everlasting surprise that she was fully enjoying Lark's hand in her own. "Ummm..." the Trader stammered, jerking her mind back to the present. Lark had said something that she had only caught the end of. "What was that again? Sorry, but I missed it."

Lark's laugh caused Daja's skin to darken in one of her rare blushes. "What I said, Daja, is that I am glad it is you who decided to accompany me on this journey instead of one of the others." Her voice lowered then, to a tone that Daja had only heard her use once with Rosethorn. Her blush grew even deeper at that particular memory. She should not have heard that discussion at all, but it wasn't her fault that they had been so very loud when she was making her way to the privy. "It's growing late and we must start off early... it's also more chill than I thought it would be. Would you share my bedroll? I cannot manage to sleep if I am too cold."

It would have been a completely innocent comment if not for the way it was said, and if Lark's fingers were not stroking Daja's wrist lightly. _What is going on here!_ Daja thought, squeezing her eyes shut. _Why do I feel as though my heart is about to beat its way right out of my chest?_ Her palms were beginning to grow clamy and the tingles that had begun shooting through her body seemed to have decided to center on a single, very sensitive location between her legs. She had only felt like this with one other person, and it always managed to make her feel extremely guilty. Lady Sandrilene, or Sandry, fa Toren was one of her adopted siblings, and her _saati_, very close friend. That she always managed to elicit such responses from Daja was something she had never shared with someone else, nor had she ever expected such feelings to be aroused by anyone else. Especially not Lark! Maybe it was because Lark was Sandry's teacher... Still, that gave no reason as to why Lark would be making such advances to Daja of all people. She had never seen the Dedicate ever look at anyone except for Rosethorn in the way that she was now looking at her.

"I'm going to take the liberty of that being a 'yes'," Lark murmured, her fingers now motionless on Daja's wrist. "Though I know you never grow cold, being able to stay warm with that smith-magic of yours. Come now, Daja, I have never seen you blush like this." Her free hand drifted up to Daja's cheek, the fingers dancing lightly across it, causing the Trader to swallow hard. "Except, of course, for when Sandry stormed out of her room in naught but that practically non-existant shift." She chuckled as Daja's eyes widened at the memory. The noble had been so furious about Little Bear having chewed up her favorite slippers that she had not even noticed she was not fully dressed. "Say _something_, Daja," Lark said, the slightest note of pleading in her voice as she leaned in closer to the Trader, her breath warm against Daja's neck. "That's why it's hard to be here right now, is you. Respond to me this time..."

_Sandry..._ Daja thought weakly, wondering what the other young woman was doing right then. _Probably flirting with Briar or trying to figure out some new stitch._ The hot flash of jealousy she felt at that thought was nothing new. _Sandry doesn't even think of me as anything but a friend, why should it matter what I do if I want to? If it's offered so... appealingly._ She was eighteen now, and there was no reason why she should still be holding back. Lark was very attractive, on the outside and inside. And Daja had developed something very much like a crush on the Dedicate during the past two months on the road. _Rosethorn. She loves Lark, Lark loves her._

Her mind was still rambling at her when a pair warm and impossibly soft lips pressed against the side of her neck. "Lark..." Daja whimpered, her eyes snapping open. She reached up to catch Lark's chin in her hand, turning so that her dark eyes met Lark's own. "Tell me why you're doing this, please. If Rosethorn ever found out not only would she hang me by my ankles in the well like she's promised to do multiple times, but she would be most upset, understandably, with the both of us." The look in Lark's dark eyes, one of longing for acceptence that could shatter in a moment, made her feel slightly giddy. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

"Because I _want_ you," Lark breathed, her hand turning so that she was resting her palm against Daja's cheek. "Strong and yet still beautiful, able to carry on a conversation without using words. And the way you pine after Sandry, so silently and yet so sweetly. It reminds me of Rosethorn when we were younger than you are now... only you're dark where she is pale, you're more heated in a less angry way, and Mila mark me if I lie, there's just something about you that captures my attention and holds me captive." She stroked Daja's cheek gently, her eyes searching now. "Rosethorn is... yes, I love her, very much. But I warned her of this before I left, and she still told me to go. Daja, do not think of her, or of Sandry. You and I are the only ones here, let your mind rest on that and forget everything else." Lark's voice was serious, and yet gentle at the same time. That cat-like face was somehow hard and soft as the firelight danced across it, making Daja's very few reservations grow weaker and weaker.

No one had ever said something like that to her before, and Daja had never expected anyone to. Not even in her dreams about Sandry finally noticing how she felt and forgetting about her noble duties. The last of her doubts drifted away as she felt the smooth silk of her shirt beginning to dance against her skin; Lark was using her thread-magic to try and convince her and it was working. "It is rather chill tonight," Daja managed to say weakly, a small and nervous grin coming to her face as she let her fingers trail down Lark's smooth neck. "I wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

This time, Lark's laugh did not make Daja blush, but the light, teasing kiss brushed against her cheek as the Dedicate slipped to her feet did. "You're so cute when you blush," Lark observed as she offered a hand to help Daja to her feet. "I'm going to have to remember that..."

A worried voice broke through Daja's thoughts. "I knew that I would find you up here," Lark said quietly, her dark, almond-shaped eyes peering at Daja from the opening in the roof. "Would you be upset if I joined you?" Daja regarded her without blinking for several moments before nodding her head, shifting so that the Dedicate could settle in beside her. She was not surprised to see that Lark wore nothing but her shift, even her feet were bare.

"You could cath cold," Daja murmured, placing her hands over Lark's icy feet. The heat from her hands warmed them quickly, yet Daja did not feel the need to remove them. "I do not want you to get sick just because you followed me up here." _Nor do I want you to be hurt because of anything you do that deals with me._ She would never say that aloud though, it would be too hard. As hard as voicing the thought that was beginning to make itself known in the deep reccesses of her mind.

Smooth hands covered Daja's own, causing a familiar tingle, now accompined by the slightest pang, to start up in her veins. "We don't have to talk," Lark murmured as she shifted up closer to Daja, molding her lithe body around the younger woman's until she was able to rest her head on Daja's shoulder. "Not now, not until you're ready to." It was odd how Lark could be such a mother-figure, then be delicate as glass the next. Daja knew that is she made the wrong move right now, then Lark would not need to talk with her about the past four months at all. She removed her hands from Lark's feet and instead placed her arms around the older, yet smaller, woman, holding her closely.

"I..." Daja started, the lump that formed in her throat causing her words to catch. She sighed and kissed the top of Lark's head. "Let's go back to bed, I'm still sore from all that work Frostpine had me do today." _I'll never say it if I can't even think it to myself without jumping around it..._ Why couldn't life just be simple?


	3. Emerald Lark

((So the Daja & Lark thing is not a very popular pairing whatsoever... but hey, that's half the fun of writing it, and coming up with reasons for it. Not something everyone can do, so I say yay me for trying.))

Daja awoke to a sunbeam playing cheerfully across her face. "What?" she asked groggly, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. The sun never entered Lark's room until after eleven, and Daja never slept that late unless she was completely worn out. Her muscles groaned in protest as she stretched out, reminding the Trader that she _was_ sore from all the work she had done in the forge the previous afternoon. The slightest hint of a blush tinged her cheeks as she remembered what she had done upon returning to Discipline cottage. That had done absolutely nothing to soothe those muscles. "Worth it though," she muttered as she pulled on the fresh clothes that were resting on the back of a chair. "These are new..." They fit better than any of her previous clothes had and there was something about them that brought a pair of familiar golden-brown hands to Daja's mind. She smiled.

"I see that you found your new outfit," Lark remarked as Daja emerged into the Dedicate's workroom. A smile formed on her cat-like face in response to the one already on the Trader's. "I made it this morning while you were sleeping, I figured that you could use a few after the wear and tear the others got during our travels. You'll be getting more by weeks end."

"Thank you," Daja said simply, leaning down to kiss Lark's forehead before seating herself cross-legged on the floor. It looked as though Lark was going to work on those outfits, so Daja had every intention of making small repairs on things that needed them. Frostpine had told her to rest, but he hadn't said that she needed to keep away from all work. "Does any of your jewelry need to be repaired, Lark?" She had several ideas for a new piece to make, but fixing old items came before making new ones in her mind. It was something that had been taught to her by not Frostpine, who had taught her so much of her work ethic, but Lark herself.

"Actually, yes there is a piece that does," Lark said, pointing towards where a small satchel sat. "There's a necklace in there that I bought while we were in Janaal. The clasp seems to be loose and it always comes undone. If you would be willing to fix that for me, my smith-mage?" Daja nodded and reached for the satchel, pausing as what Lark had said registered in her mind. _She called me her little smith-mage,_ the Trader thought, unable to keep a small smile off her face. _She's never called me her anything before..._ Smiling like some sort of fool, all her dark thoughts of the previous night burried deep enough to not be a bother to her, she exchanged a flirtaious glance with Lark before beginning to go through the satchel.

"This necklace?" she asked after several moments, holding up a very finely-crafted gold-link necklace upon which hung a frosty emerald cut to resemble a lark in flight. "It's beautiful..." She could feel magic in the gem, some stone mage had put a lot of time and energy into making this.

"Yes, that one," was Lark's absent-minded reply. She had gone back to her current project, her mind seemingly distracted by it.

Daja turned the lovely creation over in her hands, marveling at its craftsmanship. "Lark... there's nothing wrong with this necklace," she said, frowning slightly as she was completely unable to find a single thing wrong with anything. "It's perfectly made, and the emerald, there's stone magic there as strongly as I've ever felt it."

"Oh, did I say there was something wrong with it?" Lark asked, looking up from her project. Her dark eyes were sparkling, and a smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth. "What I meant to say was would you give it to me?" She held out a slender hand, palm up, the smile in full bloom. "Oh don't look so sour about it, Daja, you know that the only person I'd ask to fix something of mine would be you. If it ever needed it."

"You could have just asked me to get it in the first place," Daja mumbled as she crossed the room to drop the necklace into Lark's hand. "No need to be all vague about it."

"But this way is more fun," Lark replied, holding the necklace up as she looked at Daja. "What do you think of it? You have made jewelry before, so your opinion is a valid one."

"I think that it is one of the most gorgeous things I have ever seen," Daja replied, reaching out to touch the emerald. "Even more beautiful than the living metal trees that I have made, and that is an accomplishment. I wish I would have known who you bought this from, so that I could have spoken with him or her."

"Mhmm." Lark caught ahold of Daja's hand, turning it over so that her palm was facing up. "I knew that you would like it, Daja," she whispered, her dark eyes locking with the Trader's. She let the necklace fall into Daja's hand, closing the young woman's fingers over it. "I bought it for you, as a reminder of our journey..." The Dedicate looked away, her voice even quieter. "And of me."

"Lark..." Daja was amazed. No one had ever given her anything this valuable. And not only was it valuable by how much it cost, but the meaning behind it was more precious than anything else. "I don't need something to remind me of you, because I could never forget." She touched Lark's cheek with her free hand, a little surprised by the wetness that she found there. But then, it wasn't so surprising, for the Trader realized that her own eyes were beginning to tear. "Hey, don't cry, I'm very grateful for this."

"I can't help it," Lark admitted, looking up. "They will be back in a few days, and that is going to be hard. Rosethorn will _know_ the moment that she lays her eyes on me, and it is going to hurt her. I don't want to hurt her, but it's going to happen. Someone's ending is not going to be happy."

Daja squeezed her eyes shut. This had been exactly what she had been hoping to avoid over the next few days. "Lark, I don't expect all of this to stay the same," she said quietly, unable to keep the pain out of her voice. "I know what Rosethorn is to you, and what you are to her. And no matter what happens in the end, I'm never going to forget just how much you've come to mean to me." _I can't believe I just said that..._ the Trader thought, a feeling of shame washing through her. "Just let it happen as it will, that's what I plan on doing. For the next few days don't think about it. Just think about enjoying what we have while we have it." With trembling fingers she brushed one of Lark's short curls. "Okay?"

Lark nodded, her dark eyes shining when Daja finally opened her own. "You'll wear this necklace forever?" she asked, sounding like a little girl. "No matter what happens with either of us?"

"Of course I will," Daja said, slipping the fine link chain around her neck and hooking it. The frosty emerald lark came to rest at the hollow of her throat. A strange feeling washed over the Trader, one of complete warmth and happiness. "Oh Lark," she whispered in wonder, leaning her forehead against the Dedicate's. "This truly is the most wonderful gift I have ever been given. I could never think to not wear it."

"I am glad you like it, Daja," Lark replied, reaching up to cup the Trader's face in her hands. "Because I have never bought anything like it for anyone before."

Despite what she had said earlier, Daja could not help from asking, "Not even Rosethorn?"

There was a smile on Lark's face as she said, "Not even Rosethorn." The cat-faced woman leaned across the few inches seperating the two to kiss Daja gently, pulling away after only a few moments. At Daja's sound of dissapointment she smiled and rubbed her thumb across the Trader's lips. "Not right now, my sweet, you do need to get some rest. Frostpine will be most displeased if his favorite helper is completely exhausted when she is supposed to be resting. You said yourself that you have an idea for a new project with the living metal that comes from your hand. So you work on that, I'll work on your new clothes, and we'll pass the day in restful silence." The kind smile turned to a more wicked one. "Tonight, however, tonight is a different story."


End file.
